In The Eyes of the Storm
by TeamNoSleep
Summary: Dr. Spencer Reid has always been the smart one. Logical, calculated, he's always been a thinker. In a chance encounter, he meets the one girl who makes him question which is smarter-his head or his heart? And which one will save her life?
1. Chapter 1

**There's no better cure for school stress and writer's block than starting an entire new story!...Right? Please keep reviews and comments nice as I recognize how extremely cheesy this is!**

 **((For those of you who are fans of _Chardonnay_ , I promise it's still in progress!)) **

**Enjoy!**

CHAPTER ONE

[REID]

Gray. Dull. Emotionless. Often associated with depression, or complete lack of creativity. I had never been impressed by the color gray. Until her.

I saw a future in her eyes; the intense gray had captured me in a way only a good book has done before. Glimpses of a life flashed before me and changed the way I saw the color gray for quite possibly the rest of my life.

In her eyes, I saw power and intelligence, like the tinge in the pages of old books. I saw ashes dance around a crackling fire, providing warmth and light on a cold night. I saw clouds on a storm day and heard the soft sounds of rainfall as they lulled my anxieties.

And yet, I didn't even know her name.

I was late to work. I had trouble focusing. And all because a mysterious stranger and tripped on her way out of the coffee shop and spilled her drink on me.

I was stunned at first. Partly due to the extreme heat my chest was suddenly exposed to, and partly due to _her_. I'd never been one to focus on outward appearances of a female. And it wasn't even just her striking features, but the intelligence and wisdom in her eyes. She had the look of a scholar and the elegance of a well-educated woman.

But D.C. is a large city and the odds of seeing her again were one in… well, I didn't care. The odds were impossible and that's all I needed. But still, I couldn't shake the encounter any more than I could erase her eyes or her smile from my mind's eye.

"Oh, my God, I am so sorry," she cried, her eyes wide with horror. I was frozen. _Say something, Spencer._ She quickly spun around-her chestnut hair floated elegantly around her as she did-frantically searching for napkins.

She smells like vanilla. And what book is she holding? Is my shirt wet? Right, she spilled coffee on me. God, Spencer, pull yourself together. You'd think you'd never seen a pretty girl before.

"I'll pay to get that dry-cleaned, I swear." She tried to clean the stain from my shirt, but I took the napkins from her. The sound of her voice brought me right out of my thoughts, as if every cell in my body knew that when she spoke, I needed to listen.

"I'm so sorry, I should have been watching where I was going. I'm such a mess." You're perfect. Clearly, I'd thrown all logic out the window.

"Don't worry about it," I smiled at her. Her features softened and she smiled back. My heart leapt to my throat and I quickly ducked my head to hid the blush. _God, that smile_.

Pull yourself together. Man up. Say something else, it's _just_ a pretty girl.

"Well, see ya!" I blurted out as I ducked out the door and ran away. I scolded myself the entire walk to Quantico. If Morgan knew about this, he'd never let me live it down.

The BAU had no active cases, so the day was to be spent catching up on paperwork. I was already almost finished and I was grateful no lives were at stake during my embarrassingly distracted state.

By the time lunch rolled around, I was long finished with paperwork and was deep in studies of my own.

"Hey, kid, wanna go get lunch with us?" Morgan called to me on his way to the exit with JJ and Garcia.

"Did you know only an estimated 3% of the entire world's population has gray eyes?" the words spilled out of my mouth before I had the chance to stop myself. I was definitely off my "game," as Morgan would put it.

I was met with blank stares. I quickly muttered out an apology and grabbed my satchel to go join them.

We were almost to the elevators when Hotch stopped us.

"We have a case. It can't wait." In this line of work, we had to be ready to drop everything and go at any moment. People were dying and it was our job to put a stop to it.

As Garcia put pictures of the victims on the screen, I committed their faces to memory, filing them under "Important!" in my brain. And as I read through the details of the case, I shoved her face to the back of my mind.

But that's the thing about my memory. Once I see something, it's in my brain forever. Which meant no matter how hard I tried, I'd never be able to forget the face of the beautiful stranger who spilled coffee on me this morning.

* * *

 **Until next time xx much love**

 **TeamNoSleep**

 _If you're a fan of Supernatural, check out Drew's story:_ Chardonnay

 _If you're a fan of Big Time Rush, check out Serenity's_ story: Nothing But a Memory


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you all for the love :)**

CHAPTER TWO

 _Six months later…_

The familiar chimes of my ringtone disrupted my sleep. Not that I'd really been sleeping much. Mom was having one of her episodes and it was making it hard to get a good night's rest. It was Garcia, informing me we had a new case. She asked how quickly I could get to Quantico. I glanced at the clock next to my bed: 5:34 AM.

"I'll be there at 6:15," I'd told her. I hung up and changed out of my PJ's and into slacks and a tie. I fought a yawn-not very successfully, I might add-and picked up my go bag on the way out the door. Mom was fast asleep; I'd checked on her on my way out. I kissed her forehead, something she only let me do when she was having a really good day, or if she was asleep. I checked my watch. It was 5:45. Her in-home caretaker would be there in 15 minutes. She should be fine.

I left a note for Mom. Just in case. I had just enough time to stop off at the coffee shop around the corner from my apartment, and it was early enough that the line shouldn't be too long. I didn't know what case was waiting for me at Quantico, but I wanted to be on my A-game, and caffeine was essential.

I frequented that coffee shop more than anywhere else whenever I was home. It had been six months almost to the day since I'd first laid eyes on her. Part of me, though I tried to deny it, hoped one day I'd see those stormy gray eyes again. I ordered a black coffee to keep my time at the shop quick and easy. After ordering, I stepped to the side to let the next person order. I glanced down at my watch again. 5:55 AM. If they gave me my coffee in no more than 2 minutes and 36 seconds, I could get to Quantico at exactly 6:13. Perfect.

"Spencer?" the barista behind the counter held a steaming cup in her hand. I gave her a small smile and graciously took the cup. I took a sip as I turned around to leave, jumping back slightly in surprise at the person who stood behind me.

Her hood was up over her head, but pieces of her hair poked out of it. She had her arms crossed tightly over her chest, in a closed off manner. But her eyes, wide with surprise, were the exact gray eyes I'd seen in countless dreams over the last 6 months. My heart ached at the sight of them. Not out of joy and excitement to have finally found her again, but at the pain that clouded her eyes. Last time I'd seen her, though they were wide with panic over having spilled coffee all over me, her eyes were bright, happy. Today, they were dark and scared. She quickly ducked away, pulling her hood tighter over her head. I opened my mouth to say something. I wasn't sure what. But the more logical, responsible side of me screamed I needed to go to work. There were people who needed me. And this girl, today, was not one of them.

I made my way towards the exit, my feet felt as heavy as bricks as I trudged along.

"Keatyn?" the barista called. I glanced over my shoulder, seeing my mystery woman take the coffee cup from her. If nothing else, at least this morning I'd given myself some peace of mind. After 6 long months, I finally knew her name. Keatyn.

I felt a nagging pull in my mind, telling me to go back. To talk to her. To figure out why she was so sad. There could be any number of reasons. Maybe she failed a test. Was she even in school? Or maybe she hated her job. Or she got fired from her job. Maybe a family member died. Or maybe she got in a fight with her boyfriend. God, I hope she doesn't have a boyfriend. Or maybe she _broke up_ with her boyfriend. That makes girls sad.

I walked through the doors of Quantico at exactly 6:15. I must have been walking much slower than usual in my distracted state.

Everyone else was already sitting around the table in the briefing room when I got there. I muttered an apology before taking my seat in between JJ and Morgan. Garcia stood next to Hotchner at the front of the room, next to the screen where the faces of three pretty brunette women were posted.

"Okay, let's begin," Hotchner stated. He opened up his manilla folder and the rest of us followed suit.

"Courtney Lane, Bianca Lewis, and Diana Newton," Garcia continued. "All three were found dead in their D.C. apartments over the last 6 months."

"Locals?" Rossi asked. "Why didn't we hear about this sooner?"

"It took three to find the connection," Garcia answered solemnly. "All three women were killed in different ways. Courtney was strangled, Bianca was shot, and Diana ingested rat poison."

"So what's the connection?" Morgan asked, glancing up at Garcia from his folder.

"The notes," she pressed the button on her clicker and pictures of handwritten notes flooded the screen.

I read through them quickly. " _I'll always love you,"_ and " _I'm very impressed with how you wore your hair to the wedding,"_ were written across some of the notes. Others had " _You looked right through me today. Never again_ ," and " _Such a shame to let a pretty face to go waste."_

"A stalker," I stated. Hotchner nodded.

"Each of these women were killed approximately 2 months apart, which means he's impatient and isn't getting what he wants from these women. And when he doesn't get what he wants, he kills them. Three makes a serial killer."

"Diana was killed 2 weeks ago, which means it's likely he's already found his next victim," JJ commented.

"He has," Garcia confirmed. I took a sip of my coffee and continued to read through the profile as they conversed.

"This is 28 year old Keatyn Wright." My eyes shot up to the screen at the sound of her name, and I immediately choked on the coffee. There, on the screen, was her face. Just as beautiful as ever, even in a DMV picture. DMV pictures are infamous for being unattractive. But she looked perfect.

All eyes were on me.

"Spence? Are you okay?" JJ spoke slowly.

"Y-yeah," I stammered, trying to compose myself.

"What, you know her or something?" Morgan cocked a thick eyebrow at me.

"Yeah," I said slowly. "I mean, no I don't _know_ her know her. I just… she was standing behind me at the coffee shop this morning." Hotch responded with a short nod and continued on.

"A week ago, Keatyn received this note." A new picture of a handwritten note took over the space on the screen next to Keatyn. I had to force my eyes away from her face to read the note, and even then my glance kept flickering back to her stormy gray eyes.

" _We'll be together soon."_

"How do we know this is from the unsub?" Rossi asked. "And not just from an admirer?"

"She found this note on her pillow next to her when she woke up one morning," Garcia answered. "She went to the police immediately. She swears she locked all of her doors and windows before going to bed, but when police searched the apartment, they noticed one of the windows were open. Forced entry."

"So what's the plan?" Rossi asked, closing his folder and immediately turning his attention to Hotch.

"Garcia, I want you to dig into her past. Find any connection with the other three victims, or anyone suspicious. JJ and Rossi, I want you two to go to her apartment. See if you find anything the police missed. Morgan, Reid, we'll go down to the station and coordinate with them there."

" _Keatyn…"_ I thought as I packed up my papers. " _You'll make it out alive. I promise."_

* * *

 **Until next time xx much love**

 **TeamNoSleep**

 _If you're a fan of Supernatural, check out Drew's story:_ Chardonnay

 _If you're a fan of Big Time Rush, check out Serenity's story:_ Nothing But a Memory


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

[Keatyn]

My heart pounded against my chest as I set foot in the police department. I pulled my hood tighter over my head, keeping my eyes on the floor. I didn't want to look at anyone; I didn't want anyone looking at me. I couldn't believe this was the direction by life had gone.

Three weeks prior, I was completely in love with my life. I had landed a job as a primary DVM at a local veterinary clinic-my dream for as long as I could remember. I had graduated from vet school a few months before and for the first time in my life, I felt as if everything was falling into place.

Until I got the letter. Followed by another one. And another one.

And that's how I ended up inside the four walls of a D.C. police station, where behind closed doors, someone was probably digging into my life and someone else was waiting to further interrogate me. You really managed to get yourself into a mess this time, Keatyn. Good going.

I approached the man sitting behind the desk. He glanced up from his computer, giving me a once-over before asking, "Can I help you?"

"My name's Keatyn Wright," I answered, kicking the toe of my shoe awkwardly against the slippery tile. "I was asked to come in." He nodded and kindly directed me through some hallways and into a small room.

It was dimly lit, with one table and two chairs set in the very center of the room and one long dark window across a wall opposite one of the chairs. An interrogation room, just like the ones in all the crime shows I'd adored my whole life. It seemed silly, loving crime shows. It wasn't nearly as thrillingly mysterious when you were the one being targeted.

I was instructed to take a seat, make myself comfortable (like _that_ was possible), and promised someone would be in to talk with me soon.

I assumed I'd be speaking with the same detective I'd been talking to over the past few days-a kind woman who had moved to D.C. from Mexico named Rosa Martinez. I liked her. She was kind, smart, and had a calming aura that almost let me forget there was a psycho out there someone waiting to probably kill me. Almost.

But it wasn't Detective Martinez who met me in that room. Instead, two men walked in, introducing themselves as Special Agents SSA Morgan and Hotchner.

They took their seats opposite from me. I nervously picked at the skin around my fingernails. These two weren't like Detective Martinez. While not menacing, their presence was dominant and intimidating.

"So… what happened to Detective Martinez?" I asked. "Was she taken off my case?"

"She'll be monitoring this interview," Agent Morgan answered. "You'll get a chance to talk with her after."

"We just need you to answer a few questions for us," Agent Hotchner told me. His gaze was intense and I was barely able to squeak out an "okay."

"Can you tell us what happened in your own words?" Agent Morgan folded his hands on the table between us. I'd told this story dozens of times in this exact room.

"Um, well, I got home at about 10 pm last Thursday and went to bed- alone- at about 11:30." It was critical I told them I went to bed alone or they'd get the idea this was a note left by a lover I was ashamed to admit I'd been with. "When I woke up for work at 7, there was a note on my pillow. I went to the cops right away. There was another on my desk after my lunch break the next day and I found a third one in my car the day after that."

"Can you think of anyone who would leave that note? A boyfriend, an ex?"

I shook my head. "No, I'm not seeing anyone, and I don't have any exes that live in D.C."

I didn't get a response. They wrote down everything I was saying. The silence made me uncomfortable.

"I was terrified, don't get me wrong. I just thought maybe someone was messing with me at first." They continued writing in silence.

"I'm sorry," I blurted out. "But I've told this story a bunch of times before. I know you guys are just doing your job and all but why do I have to keep telling it? Shouldn't you be looking for clues somewhere else?"

"Ms. Wright, I understand where you're coming from. We're from the Behavioral Analysis Unit with the FBI. We're trained to take a different approach to this investigation, so it's important we hear the story from you and not just from the mouth of someone else."

I paused for a moment in shock, the burning in my eyes reminding me I needed to blink.

"D-did you say FBI?" The agents in front of me nodded. "Just how much trouble am I in?"

They exchanged a glance, like they weren't sure if they should tell me. I asked again louder. "How much trouble am I in?"

"Over the last 6 months, three other women received notes identical to those you received," Agent Hotchner answered.

"And are they all…" I struggled to get the words out. "Dead?" Their silence was all the answer I needed. Oh God.

"There's no need to panic," Agent Hotchner assured me. "We're going to do everything we can do catch this guy, and you will be safe." I could barely hear him over the pounding in my ears. I was going to die.

* * *

 **Until next time xx much love**

 **TeamNoSleep**

 _If you're a fan of Supernatural, check out Drew's story:_ Chardonnay

 _If you're a fan of Big Time Rush, check out Serenity's story:_ Nothing But a Memory


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

[Reid]

"Dr. Reid? Dr. Reid!" the detective next to me waved her hand in front of my face to get my attention. I had to blink a few times to bring myself back to focus. I watched this girl, Keatyn, from behind the glass as Morgan and Hotch interrogated her. I found myself hyper-focused on her, paying such close attention to her words, her tone of voice, and her mannerisms that I nearly forgot to breathe.

"Is everything okay?" the detective, who'd introduced herself as Detective Martinez earlier, asked me. Her eyebrows were pressed together in concern and her body was angled towards me.

"Y-yeah," I managed to say. "I'm fine."

"Just how much trouble am I in?" Keatyn spoke slowly, almost hesitantly. As if she knew the answer, but was afraid to ask. Her hands were folded across her lap, underneath the table and out of sight. But her biceps would twitch every so often, consistent with small hand movements. A common nervous twitch or stress habit is picking at one's fingernails and I could only assume that was exactly what was happening. "How much trouble am I in?" She spoke louder this time, faking confidence. Her voice still cracked slightly.

"Over the last 6 months, three other women received notes identical to those you received," Hotch told her. He leaned over the table, folding his hands.

"And are they all…" She choked on her words. "Dead?" Neither of my colleagues answered. Keatyn's eyes slowly widened and she shook slightly with panic.

"There's no need to panic," Hotch leaned closer to her, speaking slowly and evenly to reassure her as much as he could. "We're going to do everything we can to catch this guy, and you will be safe."

I wished there was some way I could reassure her. This girl, whom I haven't even formally met, yet I felt so much of a connection to. We were going to catch the unsub and put him away. No way in hell I was letting anyone lay a hand on her.

"What do you think?" Detective Martinez kept her eyes trained on Keatyn as she spoke.

"She's terrified," I answered. "But I don't think she knows anything."

"She's been so brave. Maybe even stupidly so. But strong nonetheless," Martinez sighed.

"How so?"

"It took a lot of convincing for her to let us keep an officer with her for protection. She kept telling us it was probably just a prank. We probably wouldn't have pressed so hard if we hadn't made the connection with the other murders, and we didn't want to tell her until you guys got here. In retrospect, it may not have been our best plan."

"But she let you keep someone on her right?"

"Eventually. We had to make a deal that our officers would remain as out of sight as possible. She didn't want to feel like she was being followed, even though she probably is."

"Where has she been sleeping?"

"That's the crazy part. She's been staying at her apartment."

"Even though someone broke in?"

"I'm telling you, that poor girl must have been through some things. She's tough."

"Have your officers noticed anything strange or seen anyone around her?"

Martinez shook her head. "Nothing out of the ordinary. But it's hard when we have to keep such a distance."

"Let's go over the details of the case more in depth and come up with a better plan," the words spilled out of my mouth like vomit. I could tell I'd spoken too fast based on the blank expression on Martinez's face as she tried to process the words I'd spoken. I was already out the door before I'd had the thought to repeat myself.

My eyes were glued to the door of our make-shift office. I needed to look at all the pictures again, all of the evidence, and talk to Garcia. The door to my left swung open and before I had the chance to react, I had run right into her. Keatyn stumbled backwards slightly, but kept her arms tightly wrapped around herself. She peered up at me through the hood she'd pulled down to cover most of her face.

The same gray eyes that I'd seen in my dreams for six months, the ones that reminded me of reading a book on the couch on a rainy day. The same eyes I'd studied in the interrogation room, terrified and unsure, now stared back at me.

"You…" her voice was a whisper. "You're the guy from the coffee shop." She took a step back and her fingers turned white from gripping her arms. No doubt, she was questioning seeing a stranger twice in one day. She was wondering if I was the threat.

"You don't have to be afraid," I said quickly, taking a small step towards her. "My name is Dr. Spencer Reid. I'm with the FBI."

"He's one of the good guys," Detective Martinez had seen the interaction when she left the interrogation room. "He's here to help you." Keatyn hesitated for a moment, cautiously studying me, before giving a slight nod so small, I almost missed it. Detective Martinez gave me a small smile and patted my shoulder as she continued to walk past. I mouthed a thank you to her before turning back to Keatyn.

"I'm not going to let anything happen to you," I said the words before I had the chance to stop myself.

A small, sad smile tugged at her lips. Her eyes were sad, like she wanted to believe me but couldn't. All the hope she'd had, all the happiness and life that I'd seen in her eyes the first time I'd seen her six months ago had been drained.

"I'm Keatyn," she stuck her hand out, but it remained partially covered by her sleeve.

"Nice to meet you," I shook her hand. Keatyn excused herself immediately afterwards, and the realization hit as soon as she'd left. I'd shaken her hand.

"Did I just see what I think I just saw?" Morgan's voice sounded from down the hallway. He stood with both hands limp at his sides, head tilted and eyebrow cocked. "Did you just shake her hand?" I looked down at my hand, studying where I'd touched hers. I never shook hands. I didn't like the germs. But I hadn't hesitated to shake Keatyn's hand.

"It was nothing," I tried to shake it off like it was nothing. Morgan wasn't convinced, but dropped it. He followed me to our make-shift office, where the others sat around the table waiting.

Hotch started the discussion. "Based on the interview, it doesn't appear Keatyn knows the identity of her stalker."

Morgan continued, "She also didn't recognize any of the unsub's previous victims. We should look into any connections between all of them. There might be something she isn't aware of."

"We need to come up with a plan. Keatyn has taken a leave of absence from her job and has agreed to isolate herself at her apartment as much as possible."

"The apartment is the first place the unsub will look for her," JJ cut in. "Wouldn't isolating her there put her in more danger?"

"Keatyn has turned down police protection before to try to maintain a normal lifestyle. However, she has now agreed to an increased police presence while she stays there. We want to keep people close. If the unsub shows up at her apartment, we'll be there to catch him," Morgan answered.

"Reid, your assignment is to stay close to Keatyn." My heart leapt to my throat. "You two are closest in age, so we believe she'll feel most comfortable with you around, and it is less likely to be suspicious to the unsub. You are to escort her any time she leaves her apartment, whether it's to the store or for a walk in the park."

I cleared my throat. "Yes sir." Despite the circumstances, I was eagerly looking forward to getting to know Keatyn. I was determined to protect her, but even more than that, I wanted so badly to bring the lightning back to her stormy eyes.

* * *

 **Until next time xx much love**

 **TeamNoSleep**

Interested in more?

 _If you're a fan of Supernatural, check out Chardonnay (in progress).  
_

 _If you're a fan of Big Time Rush, check out Nothing But a Memory (in progress)._

 _If you're a fan of X-Men: Evolution, check out A Second Chance (in progress)._


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